Fancy That
by 0Dorky-Tinsle-Chiks0
Summary: So... what are you supposed to do when you suddenly wake up from a weird dream in the middle of the night, you're no bigger than your little brother's Star Wars action figures, and you have.. ARE THOSE WINGS?
1. W-I-N-G-S!

I woke up with a start. Whoa. I just had the weirdest dream just now. I was talking to a scary guy who was sitting at some sort of a desk that looked like it was made from a gigantic piece of bark. Above his head was a weird wooden… thingy. It looked kinda like one of the models of a ribosome or whatever the heck Miss Glen showed me- in a word, lumpy. Anyway this guy was just sitting there yelling at me, I don't remember what about, and then he jumped up and stabbed me in the gut with this skinny brown sword.

I am never eating that much peppermint ice cream before bed again. Dang that was weird. What is bothering me right now is that the weight of my little cat, Salvador, was not on my body. When I go to bed, Sal likes to curl up on my legs or at least close to me. I looked down to try and find him, hoping he didn't slip out of my room again in the middle of the night. He tended to make either a lot of noise or a huge mess if he ever got out of my room. As my eyes adjusted to the dark a little, I couldn't find anything. Suddenly I heard a loud groaning-humming sound. Seriously, it was so loud it sounded like a train passing in front of me. I froze.

"S-Sal?" I whispered hoarsely. I slowly turned my head, and promptly shoved my fist in my mouth to keep from screaming. Found my cat. Only problem was, his head (the only part of him I could see) was at least thirty times larger than it should be. What the-!?

I stared in petrified awe for a minute or so before slowly scooting back. Wait… I could still feel my sheet underneath me. My eyes, having adjusted a little more, could make out behind me what seemed to be a large puffy hill. Is that my pillow?

Never, ever, ever, eating ice cream again. Brownies are better anyway. I know I'm still dreaming. Seriously, I'm like the size of a stormtrooper action figure. Well... in a way, this is kinda cool. I mean, I'm dreaming, and I am totally aware that I'm dreaming. That rarely happens. I heard the groaning noise again, and I saw my cat stretch out and shift a bit in his sleep.

Okay, cool or not, I'm waking up from this dream. I really love my cat, but right now I'm being scared to death by him. Okay…. how to wake up? Well, I could just pinch myself. I blinked a bit past Salvador to see the edge of my bed. Psh, pinching is way too cliché. I'm exiting this dream in style!

I got up, a little wobbly. Holy mother of a son, my back HURTS! At least, by dream standards it hurts. Whatever. I carefully walked around Sal, took a deep breath, and ran like a champ. Well, a champ who's back really hurt. Finally reaching the edge of the bed, I sprang and performed a beautiful swan dive. Either the shock of falling or the impact of landing should wake me up. Hah, take that Alice Kingsley, I don't wake up from a dream, I swoop out of a dream. As graceful as a-

I landed. On my belly. Effectively knocking the wind clean out of me. And my back still hurts. This dream stinks. I rolled over to my left side, gasping for breath. Sure my bedroom is carpeted, but that was not a smooth landing. I feel like a truck just drove into my gut, and then shifted into reverse and ran over my back once the driver saw that I was down. Finally gaining my breath back, I stood up and stretched my aching back. What the- there was something under my t-shirt. Like something was strapped to my back. I felt around. It felt like.. glossy paper with tiny little edges here and there. I looked over to the mirror in front of my closet before running over, and lifted a bit of my shirt back up to see. WHAT THE SWEET MOTHER OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S COW'S GIRL FRIEND?!

Sorry. It's a wing. You heard me right. A wing. W-I-N-G. Well, two of them; they looked like wider versions of dragon-fly wings; two wings that divided into four near the base. This is just too weird. They looked a little crumpled too. Maybe that's why my back hurt. Well, if this dream is correct, my old fairy doll toys should be under the bed somewhere. I save pretty much all my toys even though I don't play with them much anymore, being a late teen and all. I have some good childhood memories I don't wanna let go of, so don't judge. Anyway, I crawled… well, no, I walked under my bed. I didn't even clear my bed as far as stature goes. Ugh. Anyway I walked under my bed and felt around for a box. Victorious, and with some difficulty, I pried it open and began rooting around in it. I liked to make fancy little clothes for my dolls when I used to have the time, but as far as fashion itself goes for me, I prefered practical and comfortable.

Sorry Rosetta, I like pink and all, but I have some strong attire disagreements with you. Which is ironic because I made them. Let's see… pink frilly gown with a large peach colored bow just above the ribs? Uh, no thank you. Christmas-y white fleece trimmed blue winter dress? Uh-uh. Not even the green and floral party gown? Not a chance, crazy pants. Speaking of which, did I ever make pants for my dolls? Well, they were never pretty when I made an attempt. I save pants for the cloth dolls, which happen to be about three sizes bigger than me at the mo'.

Darn my luck. I fished around a little more before catching my polly pocket doll, who is about as tall as my shoulder height. Poor neglected thing. She was a little smaller than my other dolls so I didn't usually make clothes for her. So right now she was wearing a small pink piece of fabric with a broken elastic hair tie tied around her waist for a kimono.. And… it didn't look bad.

Aha! Rule of thumb for those who make tiny clothing for dolls, any makeshift article of clothing can be substituted with a piece of fabric with some holes cut into it and some string. I finally found a forgotten piece of blue cloth with some holes cut into it; I must have used it for a vest for Silvermist, and stole one of her sashes from a gown. The blue cloth had a slit cut down the middle for her wings, and right now they would do just dandy for mine. After changing my top, I tested out by running around and doing some cartwheels. Yeah, it fit okay, and there was lots of room to run around in. I had tied it around me in a trench coat style… So it was like a short trench coat with short sleeves over my black leggings. And my back doesn't feel like heck anymore. Coolio.

I stopped cold as a thought passed over me. Sal might hear me running around down here, and he absolutely LOVES to chase tiny things. Granted, he knows my scent and all but… eh, why tempt the gleaming claw of death? I backed up a bit so I could see him, still curled up on the bed. I blinked over to my alarm clock. 2:52. Crud. My alarm is set to go off at 7:15. Once it goes off, without doubt he will wake up. Oh, in case you are wondering, no, I'm convinced this is not a dream now. A dream wouldn't be this detailed. This lifelike. This PROBLEMATIC! I'm not going to go and unplug the clock, because I might be killed via electrocution. What a way to go. 'So how did your daughter die sir?' 'Oh, she just woke up in the middle of the night as a fairy and for no apparent reason unplugged her clock.'

I guess… I dunno, for now I'll just make myself scarce. I'll figure it out in the morning. No, not because I'm going to sleep; what did you think? I just got turned into a little winged thingy and I'm gonna take a nap? When the rest of my fam wakes up, then I'll get it figured. I walk over towards my door. Double crud. My door is shut. Tight. Welllll… maybe I can squeeze under it.

Oh this stupid door. Yeah, I can fit through, just barely. But not without crumpling my wings, which hurt. A lot. A lot lot. I had to bite my tongue to keep from screaming my head off.

Okay, now I'm out. Yay. Now what? Uhh. Do these wings even work? They better, after all the trouble I went through. But how do you move them? I don't know which muscle to flex or which nerve to activate or anything. I flexed a back muscle. My wings didn't move. I stretched my back out. Nope. I shook my wings frustratedly.

Well, just great. I've been turned into a fairy that can't even fly. Going down the stairs is not going to be a fun thing to do. I walked down the hall, which looked like a cathedral over to the staircase. Oh look at that, a carpeted grand canyon in my very own house. I suddenly feel very guilty for all the toys I've sent in little toy cars down these steps when I was younger. With a sigh, I jumped down the first step, landing in a squat. Okay, that's not bad. Again. Yeah okay, I got this. Another. Pff, what was I worried about? This is like playing large scale leapfrog. I was about to do another when I heard a voice off to the left of me.


	2. Sort-of-a-Fairy People

"Hello?" Being so startled, and half expecting someone in my family had seen me like this, I shrieked and toppled off the right side of the step I was on, screaming again as I fell.

"O-oh! Wait, I'm sorry!" Someone shouted down at me as I landed on the arm of the couch that off to the side of the stairs. Mother of pearl, landing on my wings, which, hurt. If you couldn't tell yet, my new wings are super sensitive. With a groan I sat up to see who was talking to me. A little figure flitted around and landed on the back of the couch, stumbling a little. I scrambled to my feet. Because of the dark I couldn't make out everything about it.

"Who's there?" I demanded.

"What-the-Dickens, if you please," the voice replied politely. Wait, what? Well, whatever it was, it was a guy, and he was my current size, and he could fly. I paused.

"Say again?"

"What-the-Dickens. What-the-Dickens is my name." I paused again. What a funky name. But… I actually kind of liked it. It was like one of those hyphenated names that really spoke for themselves. Kind of like Winnie-the-Pooh, or Sam-I-Am.

"Will you tell me your name?" he asked. I scratched the back of my head.

"Um, everybody calls me Reilly," I said. As soon as the words left my mouth, the dude skittered across the back of the couch and over to me. I took a few steps back, but he pursued and took both of my hands.

"Reilly!" he declared, excitedly. Now that he was closer I could make him out better. He was kind of lanky, and he had longish uncombed copper hair, as if someone had just ruffled it a bit. He was wearing what looked like a nightshirt thing made of clingy material and had no shoes. Well I didn't either, but I had an excuse. His hands were also on the long side and clung excitedly onto mine. He fiddled with them clumsily, as if he didn't know what to do with them now that he had them.

"Finally! I was wondering if there were others! I mean, I found one other fellow, but he abandoned me quite fast as soon as McCavity came along, I didn't think I'd ever see him again. But now I found you! Oh, if I'm not being too forward, what are you?" he rambled, grinning. He was talking so fast I paused for a minute to let my brain catch up with what he was saying. What am I? Excellent question, Mr. Dickens… uhh. I shrugged at him.

"I.. guess I'm like some sort of a fairy?" I said uncertainly, "Wouldn't you know?" Hey, I'm a noob. This guy here looks like a more experienced fairy thing.. considering he's in my house and I'm not related to him...

"I mean what sort of tribe? What variety?"

"I have no idea what you mean by that. But…" I trailed off, looking at his wings briefly before continuing, "We look very much the same, so I guess the same as you."

"Oh I don't have any kind. I'm an orphan. Wait, are you an orphan too?"

"No, no. Uh… in fact I live here."

"Here? Are you being kept as a pet? Do they hold you under glass? Do they force you to read poetry?" he asked anxiously. I chuckled incredulously. Wha-at? Once again I had to pause before catching up to whatever he was saying. Force me to read poetry?

"Slow down. No, I'm not a pet. They don't hold me under glass; where did that come from anyway? And only on occasion do I have to read poetry, but the folks that live _here_ don't make me read it. And usually it's good poetry anyway," I replied, thinking of a beloved english teacher… Why the heck am I thinking about this?

"An old lady tried to keep me as a pet by holding under glass and making me read poetry. I almost suffocated," he said dramatically. Huh, crazy old lady. Although I wonder why she forced him to read poetry… Whatever. I nodded slowly.

"Uh, hey, can I have my hands back?" I asked, remembering he still held them. What-the-Dickens, instead of just letting go of my hands, actually put my hands over to me, as if he were giving them to me.

"Thanks," I said awkwardly, rubbing my shoulder.

"So if you aren't a pet here, did they adopt you?"

"No. Ah, no. They uh… Well, they had me," I winced at his puzzled face, "See, I… I just, woke up, this size. I wasn't this size yesterday." I tried to explain.

"You mean.. you're as big as the other people here?" he asked, shock creeping across his face. I nodded.

"Give or take, but yes. Like I said, I woke up, and I'm.. like you."

"How odd. How did it happen?"

"I don't know. I go to sleep, I'm a human. I wake up, I'm tiny and I have wings. That's all I know."

"How do you get back to being big?" he asked. I shrugged.

"Excellent question. Unknown answer," was all I could offer.

"You can stay with me! I mean, I move around a lot, I don't actually have a home. But just until you figure out a way to get big again you can come with me, rather."

Well that escalated quickly. I just met this guy and he's inviting me to go...wherever?

"Uhh… Where do you plan on going?" I asked, raising a brow. He paused and shrugged.

"Oh, anywhere really. I look around for a good place to sleep and eat every day and then move on, I suppose."

Let's see. I woke up as a fairy thing, that can't fly, and I meet this other homeless fairy who is inviting me to travel with him to who know's where. Call me cautious, but I may have to think about that one.

"Do I have to decide now?" I asked. He shook his head frantically.

"No no no. Take as much time as you need. I'm in no particular hurry."

"Oookay. Uh, I'll letcha know in the morning. In the meantime, I guess you can sleep… somewhere in this house," I said, looking around.

"If it's not asking too much, is there food here too?" he asked, looking eager.

"Uhhh, sure. But getting it may be easier said than done. See, um… I can't fly.."

"You can't?" he looked behind me to see my wings, "But don't you-"

"I don't know how to work them. I don't even know if I have nerves connected to them or what."

"Well, I'm not especially good at it myself. But perhaps we'll manage. You got this far as a newly woken sort-of-a fairy, and I got this far as an orphan, right?"

"I guess," I looked down from where we were standing on the couch arm, "How do I get down?"

What-the-Dickens scratched his copper hair as he looked over the situation.

"I suppose I could fly down.. Then… you jump and I catch you?" he suggested. HA! No way. First of all, I just met this guy, I'm not going to trust the fate of my unbroken bones in his hands. Second, I _just met this guy. _He is pretty forward- he's like treating me like we're best friends or something- but.. yeah, him catching me would be too awkward.

I laughed nervously.

"How about, you just fly down, I just jump down. No catching."

"But, your landing..."

"Don't worry about it. I'll figure it out."

He gave me an uncertain look before fluttering down, not very gracefully. Sort of the same way when you have a tiny piece paper and it kinda flits and spins to the floor, only he didn't spin. Okay. Now. I read in a book that if you dragged yourself along the face of a cliff if you fell off of it you'd slow down considerably. Not exactly news to save my life, but, hey, let's give it a shot. I crept up to the edge and looked down, where What-the-Dickens looked up at me expectantly. I sighed. Here goes nothing. I stepped off and tried to direct my fall so that I was dragging along the side of the couch. My tumbling landing didn't hurt as much as I thought it would, but it made What-the-Dickens look like a leaping ballerina compared to me.

He rushed over to where I tumbled.

"Are you alright?!"

"Shh. Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go get your food."

"Lead the way."

It was a fairly long walk to the kitchen, so I figured I'd start a conversation with him.

"So… do you have a nickname?"

"What?"

"A nickname."

"I wouldn't even know what that is." Wow. Fresh off the lonely streets orphan, eh?

"It's like… a name that people call you that is shorter than your original name. Or they call you that for fun." Yeah kinda weak explanation but I think he got it.

"Like… an alternative name?"

"Pretty much."

"I'm afraid I don't have one."

"Well I figured that if you didn't know what one was," I replied, chuckling, "You want me to give you one?"

"You can give me one?" I chuckled again.

"The rules of nicknames are only people around you can give it to you. You can't give one to yourself."

"So, I can give one to you?" he said, his eyes lighting up.

"I guess you could if you don't wanna call me Reilly."

"Well, you don't want to call me What-the-Dickens." Touche'

"Only cuz it's kinda long. I mean, that's four syllables right there. Reilly is only two. Or Reil can just be one if you wanna go real short."

"How about Ree? How many syllables is that?" he asked. Can't he count? Oh, he's an orphan. Right.

"Still one. But technically it is shorter if you wanna go into spelling," I thought a bit about the name. Ree. I remember reading a book when I was nine about fairies, the queen of them being named Ree. Hmm. I like it. I like it a lot.

"I wouldn't mind if you want to call me Ree," I continued. He grinned widely and jovially.

"Great! Ree, Ree, Ree, Ree! What will you call me, Ree?" he asked. I giggled, wow, he really liked my new nickname. I thought a bit.

"Well… What-the-Dickens is a phrase, I assume based from the name Dickens, in reference to Charles Dickens," I mused.

I liked the name Charles, but it was really overly elegant for this funny character. Nicknames for Charles? Charlie? No, that's too unfortunate, like Charlie Brown or Charlie Buckets. Chuck, or Chucky? Nah, that's too simple and creepy, like woodchuck or Chucky that weird red headed doll. Chaz? Ooh, I like that one. It sounds like a combo of cha-cha and jazz. And come to think of it I didn't know anyone by that name.

"How about Chaz?" I suggested.

"Chaz? Cha-az. Chaaaz. I like it! I have a nickname! We have nicknames, Ree!" he said, literally jumping up and down. I giggled and patted his shoulder.

"Let's get your food, Chaz."

"Okay, Ree!"

"Incidentally, how did you wind up with a name like What-the-Dickens? I mean, not that I don't like it, I just... never heard it before as a name."

"O-oh. Well. I can't say exactly it was chosen as a particular name. They were the first words I heard, and I thought they were being spoken to me. I figured it was my name at first."

"Wait, so, you've met others?"

"Uh...?"

"Others like us I mean. Sort-of-a fairy people?"

"Oh.. No. Only big-with-no-wings people. Like what you used to be."

"Ah... So you just chose it as your name when you heard it?"

"Well, when the fellow said it, I thought he was speaking to me, but then he turned away so I suppose not. Anyway, the way he said it was like he was just leaving the statement in the air, and since no one else was coming back to it I reckoned no one wanted to keep it, so I took it as my name."

Well, I guess I couldn't argue with that logic- when you leave words just hanging in the air like that, I guess you _do _leave them up for grabs. Like when you trail off a sentence and someone finishes it for you- only in this case, someone said 'What-the-Dickens' and never came back to it, so Chaz used it as his full name.

I paused and looked up. Chaz followed my gaze. The kitchen counter looked like fifty feet up, (considering my current size, i.e. sort-of-a-fairy person size) and that was the best place to get food. I hummed as I looked around for a makeshift ladder of some such. I looked to the left of me to my mom's pan rack. It was a nifty metal rack about three and a half feet high (to a human- i.e. big-with-no-wings people) that mom stacked pot roast and cookie pans on. Putting the pans away was a bit of a chore because they were stacked on top of one another, but right now the edges of the pans would do for a rather uneven staircase for a flying impaired fairy and her orphan male fairy friend.

"We need to get up there," I started, and walked over to the rack, "If you don't wanna fly, we can climb these." Chaz nodded.

"I don't know how to fly straight up. I'll have to."

"You can't fly straight up?" I asked, already starting to figure out a path up, like you would on one of those mountain climbing walls with the colored handles.

"Well no. So far I can jump off of things and make my fall slower. In one case I was able to glide a short distance, but I had a bird to help me."

"A bird helped you? Really?"

"Yes, why?"

I shrugged.

"I don't know, birds around here are either scared of sudden movements or when they see something small they assume it's food."

"Well, uh. I tried to eat me at first. Once I fell into the nest though it thought I was one of her babies."

Uh. Kay? I let the subject go as I concentrated on climbing.

Climbing the pan rack wasn't really a picnic. Some of the 'steps' were waist high, others were as thin as my hand and were hard not to trip over from being so flat, but eventually we made it. I looked around the counter. Now what food would be good to a fairy and easy enough to access? A few ways from the coffeepot was the peanut butter jar. Aha! Chaz most likely had never tasted peanut butter before. Now.. the jar was about the size of a large closet to us, and I couldn't fly up to unscrew the lid.

But when I want peanut butter, _I am going to get my peanut butter. _ Close to me on the right was a forgotten butter knife that someone probably took out, ended up not needing, and had forgotten to put away. I cracked my knuckles and picked it up. Well, I picked up one of the ends and dragged it; it was considerably heavy. Chaz just watched me curiously.

I placed the thin side under the base of the jar, then got down into a squat and lay the handle part over my shoulder like a beam. I glanced over at Chaz.

"You may wanna cover your ears," I said. Hesitantly he did as he was told. Standing up with the butter knife handle on my shoulder, I levered the peanut butter jar down on its side with a plasticy slam. Chaz flinched and I grinned triumphantly. I then walked over to where the jar lay on its side and, like turning an enormous wheel, unscrewed the top, revealing our nutty prize.

Chaz cocked his head like he didn't know what to make of it. I smiled and stuck a finger into the creamy goop, scooping out a fairy sized blob and plopped it generously on his finger. Chaz glanced at it and then up at me.

"Try it," I said, reaching back in for my own blob. He sniffed it and cautiously licked it. Oh man, the face he made had me almost rolling with giggles. He looked like his face was just seeing the sun for the first time.

"It's peanut butter. You like?" I asked, questioning the obvious. Chaz nodded, his mouth being too full of the stuff to answer verbally. After a few mouthfuls of it I decided we needed drinks. Milk would have been appropriate, but there is no way I can open the fridge like this. Water from the faucet is also out of the question. I blinked behind me. The coffee machine towered over me like a monumental building. There was no coffee in it (not that I would offer Chaz coffee) but usually my dad set up all the water and grounds in it at night so he could switch it on in the morning.

"You thirsty?" I asked, my voice thick from the gooey goodness. Chaz nodded. I assumed his voice was thick too. Thank heavens the glass part of the pot had a handle on it. I clambered up it like a jungle gym and pried open the lid at the top. In one section of the inside was the coffee filter filled with the dry grounds, and on the other was a small pond worth of fresh water. I looked down at Chaz at gestured at him to come up. He questioningly obeyed and I showed him how to scoop out water with his hands to drink.

It wasn't easy to do without falling in, as a matter of fact we had to catch ourselves several times, but after finally rinsing down our late night meal, (and rinsed off our hands… I hope my parents don't taste the faint residue of our peanut butter in their coffee) I remembered the issue of where to sleep.

I know I am NOT going back upstairs to my room. As far as going in without my cat noticing and sliding under that door _again? _Nope. I thought silently for a while. I needed a good place that was cozy, not too warm or cold, and would have the sunlight shine first thing when it came up. It would be ideal to wake up before the rest of the house, and I have no alarm clock. Well, there as a smooth leather recliner in front of a window in the living room… I guess that would work.

"Bed time?" I suggested to Chaz. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and nodded. We stumbled down the pan rack again and I led the long walk into the living room. Both of us were too tired to really think much let alone talk, so I just led the way there, we climbed the little lever thing that makes it recline, and fell asleep on the seat. (A fair distance apart from each other, mind you.)

My dreams were really vivid. I dreamt that I had woken up, lost Chaz and was looking for him. Suddenly I was floating in the air trailing pink pixie dust glittery stuff, and landed on my desk. My tiny eraser animals were lined up and looked like the stuffed animals you get at the arcade if you win ten million tickets, the drawings my friends had given me that I had pinned up around my desk looked like murals, and the action figures that my brothers had given me were about my size. Except for my bendy Jack Skellington figure- I only came up to his knee. Then that figure came to life as I was staring at it, and started cackling something about snowflakes and fiery hands and then turned on my desklamp and shined it on my face.

I woke up squinting.

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><p><strong>So no, nothing having to do with Pixie Hollow yet- Chaz doesn't even know where or what that is, he's an orphan! (Although book verse Clarion did get a cameo- brownie points if you caught it!) But, some time along the story, Pixie Hollow WILL make its appearance. Until then, let's hope next chapter the cat doesn't eat us...<strong>


	3. Mother Nature's Gangster

**Hello again! Thank you all followers and favoriters for supporting my story!**

**Special thank you for StellarDust2K for reviewing! Thank you for your kind words, it helped inspire me to continue! Enjoy!**

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><p>The sunlight had seeped through the window and was glaring in my face like a laser. I stretched and got up, looking out the window. By the way everything was lit, and considering what season it was, I guessed it was around six thirty in the morning. Perfect, that gave me more or less an hour before the rest of the house woke up. I looked down at Chaz, who was all curled up and snoring peacefully. It wasn't a loud and obnoxious snore, it was more like inhaling really deeply through his nose.<p>

Poor guy. I don't even know what happened yesterday before he found me… or how the heck he got in the house.. I gently-and sort of awkwardly-jiggled his shoulder until his eyes cracked open. Now in better light, I could make out different features of him better. His skin was pale, and I mean _pale_. I'm pretty pale myself, but I was tan compared to him; he looked like creamy paper. He also had really tiny brown freckles scattered across his face and down his forearms and shins. His eyes were a bright deep green, and he had fairly arched eyebrows. His nose was perky and turned up ever so slightly at the end, much like mine, only mine had a cleft in it. He was also pretty lanky and skinny- he must not be able to eat much.

"G'morning," I mumbled, offering him a small smile. I don't know how he usually woke up, but I can't imagine it always being a very polite awakening each time if he lived off the streets. He gave me a sleepy smile back, and slowly moved to sit up.

"Hello, Ree. So… are you going to come with me..? Just until we can get you big again."

Ooh. I thought about that one. Well, on one hand, there was go with him to the wild yonder, and then there was wait for my fam to wake up and then… what? How well would my family take this? I seriously have no idea. And let's not forget my cat. I love my cat, but after seeing what he's done to that mouse toy I made him last year, I'm not too sure I want to be around him when he wakes up. Actually I'm _positive _I wanted to be away when he wakes up. But what about my family? If I left, then they might think I was kidnapped or something. I could write them a note, but it would be fairy sized, and who would believe it, even if they saw it?

Ugh.. why the hey am I a fairy anyway?! There isn't one logical choice for me in this! I paused. My dad used to tell me when you need to make a hard decision, stop thinking the word 'me'. Well… even in that case, what to do? My family would be worried sick about me if I left, but on the other hand, I can't just leave Chaz. Where would he go, what would he do? He already said he needed company before… I thought about suggesting we both stay, but that won't work. That would endanger him to my cat's hunting skills too, and he said he wasn't very good at flying. I looked at Chaz.

"We're not going to leave this place forever, right? This is still my home, you know."

Chaz grinned, probably because I implied I was going to leave too.

"Of course! If you're going to get big again, we'll have to!" I paused at this.

"...Okay. I'll go with you, but let me get something for us to eat first… And maybe some shoes would be good too. I can't fly, remember?"

Chaz gave a happy cheer and bear hugged me, I awkwardly hugged back and struggled to keep my balance; the sort-of-a fairy dude is stronger than he looks. I stepped out of his hug and cleared my throat.

"You're going to have to show me the way out though. I'm not nearly strong enough to open a door or window like this."

"Alright, but let's get something to eat first," he said, eagerly.

"And shoes."

"And shoes. How are you going to get shoes when you're this size?"

"I'll figure something out. C'mon."

It was a lot easier to get down from the leather recliner than the parlor couch; the side was slanted so it was like riding a huge slide. I had left the peanut butter out and the top of the coffeepot open from last night, so we just repeated that meal adventure. I really wasn't in the mood to put either back into their original spots, so I just left them out after we ate and drank. Mom and Dad are going to be busy wondering where I went rather than freak about the peanut butter being out all night and why their coffee has a faint nutty bouquet.

I was halfway down the pan rack when I heard the babbles of my baby sister. Darn, she woke up early. I was just trying to decide what to do about shoes when I heard the voice of my mom saying good morning to my sister as she made her way to her room to get her out of her crib.

Dang it! I hurriedly climbed down and grabbed Chaz, dragging him behind the counter.

"We're going to have to forget the shoes. Can you _quietly _show me the way out?" I whispered. He pressed his lips together and nodded. We made our way back into the parlor, where we climbed up and into the fire place, and he pointed up. I followed his finger and could see the sky through the chimney.

"Seriously?" I said incredulously. He nodded hesitantly, as if wondering why I would ask that. The bricks that made up the back of the wall were built in old fashionably, some sticking out more than others. I'm about half the width of a brick in height though, so climbing up a height that looked like the empire state building from here.. not to mention the threat if I lose my grip and fall from whatever height beyond the first brick I'm probably going to break something if not die on impact… let's just say this is not my favorite part of being a fairy. We started to climb, Chaz occasionally using his wings to give him a short boost up. How do you use wings anyway? I would have loved to just be able to fly out right now. I thanked goodness that there was no greasy soot or ash in this fireplace. My house, being old fashioned-ish, had like three fireplaces, but we only used one.

I think it was because this one and the other one was too fancy to use, while the one we did use was black and sturdy. Whatever. It felt like some Indiana Jones movie, climbing up these huge bricks to the top, but eventually we made it. My arms and legs were tired, and my bare feet were all dirty and dusty (hey, we don't dust a chimney we don't use… or the chimney we _do _use, for that matter) But, I was on the roof, away from the eyes of my family, and my cat. Now how do we get _down?_ Uggghhh. One problem after another! Suddenly I heard a noise that sounded like a cross between nails on a chalkboard and the dinosaur screams on my brother's pre-historical documentaries.

Chaz and I whirled around, and were met with a dark shadow passing over us before the both of us were grabbed by what felt like multiple thick leather bands, and then being hoisted up. Before we knew it, the roof of the house seemed miles below us. A crow had grabbed us.

"Ree!" Chaz yelled. I was screaming and squirming madly. My older brother had told me about crows; they were basically mother nature's gangsters. That was probably why he liked them so much, but right now, I want out of the crow's foot. The crow cawed it's ugly scream again and grazed the top of a very tall tree, which made me knock my head against a thick twig. Which made me pass out.

When I came to, my head was hurting _a lot_, my wings felt crushed, and I was still in the crow's grip. I wanted to scream, part with pain, part with fear, but I was afraid my throbbing head was going to fall off, so I just groaned.

"Ree! You're alive!" I heard Chaz next to me. I rose my head just enough to look at the crow's other foot. Chaz was positioned belly up in it's grip, while I was positioned belly down. I don't know if my vision was off after that blow to the head, but...Chaz's eyes looked red and puffy, and he had little lines going from his eyes down his face. Chaz sniffed a few times but was grinning with, what looked like, relief.

"I thought you were dead!" he choked out. I managed a half hearted smirk.

"Not quite yet," I mumbled, "What do we do? I'd rather not make it to the end of this flight. We probably won't like where this bird's going." I don't know why I was so calm. Maybe it was the pain that was killing me and made me want to do anything but move. Chaz looked at me helplessly.

"I don't know. I tried biting his foot, but it's too tough!" he said. Ick, who knows where that foot has been… I let my head drop and closed my eyes. My arms were locked to my sides by the crow's grip, so I couldn't really do anything. Chaz had had one arm out of it's grip, but still, what could he do with one arm? Biting didn't work, so what was he gonna do? Tickle it until it released us?

I cracked my eyes open. The ground looked a million miles below me; it wasn't as if I could do much even if the crow did let go. I sighed and let my eyes fall closed again. I guess it was just let the darn bird take us where it was going to take us. But where? To its nest where we would get mobbed and pecked to death by the rest of the crow clan? I sighed, and felt myself starting to drift into sleep. At least then I won't suffer my crippled wings and aching head. My eyes snapped open when I heard the crow caw again, this time in distress. I couldn't see what was happening, but I felt something warm and wet splatter across the back of my neck and arms, and slowly the crow's grip loosened a bit before we began to plummet.

The crow never let go of me, or Chaz either, by the way he was yelling as we were falling in sync. Finally I was knocked away from the crow as it hit the top branch of a tree. I screamed and flailed, now that I was free, but still falling, most likely to my death.

My face was turned to the ground as I twisted around in midair, and I fell into a net of cobwebs stretched between two twigs of the tree that knocked me away from the crow. I had fallen straight through that layer of cobweb, only to fall into another one, and another one. Oh great, I had found an old spider colony's nest. Don't get me wrong, I was partially thankful; with each layer of cobweb I fell through, my falling slowed a little bit, until I had made it to the bottom. I still fell through the last layer of cobweb, but my falling speed had decreased enough so it was like tumbling out of bed.

Granted it was nice not having, you know, dove to my utter demise by being thrown out of an evil gangster bird's claw. But at the moment I had bits of the sticky cobweb all over me, and it was not a nice feeling. I also had that warm wet stuff all over my neck and arms, and upon inspection turned out to be _blood._


End file.
